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Warm air caressed Ava’s skin, curling into her hair, tickling into her plain, brown tunic and loose pants. It was a good feeling; not quite the same as being safely surrounded by stone, but she had never shied away from the surface, unlike some of her clan. But looking up, she knew that some of those true underworlders, if they still lived to this day, would not mind this cloudy view. It felt safe, for some reason, to be in this half light, under these deep clouds.  

Upon realizing her thoughts, Ava frowned.

She did not like that shadows felt safe. Shadows should not feel safe. This strange affinity for the darkness was a part of being a shadeling, and though it gave her mental comfort, it was not comfortable. She had tried her racially-granted [Shadowblend], once, and did not like that it gave her similar comfort to [Stone Body], and she much preferred [Stone Body]. [Water Body] was adequate, but nothing compared to the sheer joy of flying through the Underworld, and seeing all the threats around you before they came too close.  

She would have to work on regaining [Stone Body]. She kicked a mental list around inside her mind, of spells she needed to possess and make, and achievements she needed to fulfill, once she was a person again. She had refined herself a thousand times in her previous time on Veird, making spells that were too large for her current self to use, so she’d have to get used to the small life, for a little while.  

After she regained herself, she could go kill mimics till level 34. Unfortunately, this low level meant certain uncomfortable measures would have to be taken, and lived with. A level 34 did not function the same as a level 85...

But that was okay!

She smiled, as she considered all the failed spells in her former Status. Could she truly try all of them again? … Maybe not all of them, but her tier 5s were certainly in reach.  

… But? Did that tier magic cooldown carry over when you didn’t have the original spell? Or any of the components? Ava had a hard time believing it did. And with that stray thought, she smiled again. She could remake all of her magic, and this time, she might even succeed! She almost laughed at the thought, at the joy of possibilities. But she did not, for now was a time of do or die, and she was procrastinating. There was little room for mirth in this place.

Ava stood in the Crystal Courtyard, beside the eponymous Crystal itself, in the previous center of Candlepoint. The square was now lakefront property with the western buildings having fallen into the waters. Most of the other structures remained perfectly intact. One of those buildings, in particular, was Ava’s destination. It was a dark box of a structure, maybe only five meters cubed, sandwiched between an alchemist’s burned out shop and a smith’s store. This building was bland, except for double doors that resembled Melemizargo’s wings, and white handles that resembled fangs, or maybe claws. The doors were shut tight. Of all the destruction scattered through Candlepoint, this place suffered none.  

Or maybe the shadelings fixed this place up first? That was also a possibility. But, no. Melemizargo likely missed this place on purpose, when he cast his [City Shape] and made a lake for Candlepoint. He certainly missed the Crystal; that dark stretch of smokey darkness still stretched straight up into the sky, a good 50 or so meters. It was certainly pretty to look at—

She was stalling. Procrastination came easy when one was on their way to meet their maker.   

Marshaling her wits and her courage, Ava set her shoulders straight… And then she looked around, again.  

Ava was not alone in the square. The dark Captain of the Guard, Slip, stood beside her. A few others held back, watching from the shadows of nearby buildings, or standing out in the dim sunlight. Their shadowy eyes glowed with interest. Some held disdain on their faces, but some had visible emotions larger than simple hope. With glowing eyes fixed on Ava, and hands held in front of their mouths, they wished for miracles, but not for Ava’s success; she was just the one attempting Fate, at the moment.

They hoped for someone else to brave death, and succeed, so that they might follow on a cleared path.

… She was stalling again.  

She mumbled to herself, “I didn’t think it would be this difficult.”

Slip said, “You don’t have to do this.” He glanced up, to see an ooze of light hanging in the air above the courtyard, before turning back to Ava. “No matter what favors you think this might gain you—”

His words crystallized something extra, something deeper inside Ava, that was not the rad by her heart.  

With her gaze locked forward at the doors to Darkness, Ava said, “This is not about favors, but this is about gain. I refuse to live in squalor, Captain. I refuse to live in a hovel, begging for scraps from my betters. Since Melemizargo seems content with monsters begging for scraps, I refuse to be a monster.” She glanced at Slip, saying, “It’s a simple choice.”

Slip whispered, “You might die.”

With her head held high, she walked forward, saying, “And I might not.”

- - - -

Sitting on the couch of the sunroom, with a viewing window in front of her, Syllea half scowled, saying, “She seems dramatic. Like this is some sort of play.”

Sitting on the opposing couch, and viewing the scene through an Ophiel on site, Erick defended the woman, saying, “She’s just building herself up to try her chances against death.”

Bayth harrumphed, behind Syllea.  

Poi remained silent, behind Erick, but Teressa was taking an awful long time to get more coftea for the group. That was just as well. She likely didn’t want to be near for this event. Another person was also absent from the event; Justine had quickly made herself scarce after fulfilling her duty of speaking to Syllea. Erick took a moment to check on them, and saw that both women were on opposite ends of the house; as far away as they could get from the sunroom, and each other.

An hour ago, Erick had invited Archmage Syllea and her friend, Bayth, into his house, after Justine had time to calm down and build herself up to speak again to the archmage. Justine dutifully put on her best face and answered some more questions, while Teressa served lemon cookies and tea, and Erick made sure to keep everything calm and peaceful. Over the course of the talk, Syllea revealed that her brother had turned full traitor, but no one knew how far his influence had spread. The investigation was ongoing. Syllea didn’t mention anything else beyond those few words; the event clearly hit her rather hard.

Erick was more than a little unsure of what to do when he heard that there was some unknown, massive shadeling plot happening in Treehome. But it wasn’t his place or concern to deal with what was going on all the way up there, in a different part of the world entirely. When it spilled down to Spur, or more likely, to Candlepoint, then Erick would get involved.

Somewhere in the beginning of the third round of questioning, and when the second round revealed barely more than the first round, Erick’s attention on Candlepoint had told him of an important happening. And thus, the questions went on hold. Justine visibly relaxed; slumping her shoulders as Syllea conjured a viewing screen and the archmage’s attention fully turned from the incani. Justine excused herself from the room, after that, barely hiding how grateful she was to become as scarce as Teressa.

And now, Erick, Syllea, Bayth, and Poi, were in the sunroom, all of them watching Candlepoint, and each other.  

Bayth peered over Syllea’s shoulder, to look at the archmage’s viewing screen, clinically saying, “She’s not... human. She’s too skinny.”

Syllea narrowed her eyes at the hovering screen. She had not asked any questions, either. When Erick mentioned this happening, she rapidly transitioned to focus on this possible transformation.

Erick said, “Her name is Ava, no last name given. Jadescale tribe. Underworld. She’s a snake shifter who woke up this morning and said she was a sewermaster in her previous life. I heard this from Mephistopheles —I told you about him? Anyway: He interviewed Ava for her position several hours ago.”

“Jadescale…” Syllea mumbled, thinking, as she frowned at her viewing screen. “Don’t know that one.”

Erick didn’t know anything about the scattered shifter tribes, either. He hadn’t really thought to ask, either, until now. He looked to Poi, “Can I get some context?”

Poi nodded, as he sent out a dozen tendrils of thought. After a moment, he said, “Silverite says the Jadescales are no longer a clan. Dead over a hundred years ago due to a cascade of failures, without any real answers as to why they perished. There might have been an incursion from the Fractured Citadels, but the truth is unknown. Some Jadescales sought refuge in a neighboring clan which was, and still is, quite prosperous, known as Obsidianscale, but they all moved closer to the surface of Quintlan after the Jadescale city became a nest of shadows a hundred years ago. The Obsidianscales are regular trading partners with Portal.” He added, “I also informed Silverite of what was happening. She is now watching the event as well.”

“Thank you, Mister Fulisade,” Syllea said, as the doors of the dark building opened in front of Ava. “That is enough.”

- - - -

Doors, like wings, unfolded from the building, opening wide. Beyond was a pit of darkness that rushed inward, like a suddenly retreating fog. As Melemizargo’s influence opened like the setting of a trap, dark stone pews stood revealed to the sides of a central aisle. Ava marshaled all of her courage, and walked forward, under leathery wings, trying her best to ignore how stone had turned organic.

A skylight in the center of the Dark Temple suddenly cast a pillar of light into the gloom, revealing the central effigy of the unholy domain.

The shrine, for that is what it had to be, waited for Ava at the end of the aisle. Set upon a waist high pillar of black stone and capped with a crown of white fangs, laid a splash of crystal that was darker than black. Ava could only tell it was a crystal formation from the shape of the object, all hard edged and spiked into the air. It hurt to look upon, as though she was seeing a void in space. The black stone of the building seemed almost grey by comparison.  

Ava steeled herself, holding her hands at her sides. Shoulders straight, she walked forward, all the way into the temple, under the wings of Melemizargo, to meet her maker, and demand to be remade. Cold wrapped around her body as she stepped across the threshold, into the Dark. Three more steps, and the door folded down behind her, trapping her in silen—

“Hello.”

The words came like a melodious avalanche. Like a song she had forgotten, but that once remembered, filled her from her toes to the top of her head with comfort, with certainty, with purpose. She never wanted to hear anything else ever again.  

But she tore herself from that feeling. What was the Dark Song, compared to a life of deeper meaning? It was ephemeral and useless and tied to that great evil waiting in the shadows.  

“You have invaded my mind, Darkness.” Ava stood strong, saying, “I do not appreciate this.”

A light chuckle filled the air, coming from every part of the temple at once, except from the dark crystal in front of her. “What a curious perspective!” Melemizargo said, “It is you who have invaded my mind, Ava Jadescale. But that is an old thought, and I’m trying to think new ones.”

A brighter glow flowed down from above. Ava looked up. The archmage’s [Familiar] hung above the skylight, watching, filling the shadows with light. Ava took a step further forward, to step into that light.

“If you don’t want an audience, I can shoo them away.”

“I will have my final moments known to more than you, thank you.”

“As you wish.”  

“I also wish to be returned to my true self.”

“Making a wish to the Darkness! How bold.” He asked, “Is that all you [Wish] for?”

Melemizargo’s inflection upon that dangerous word was unmistakable. Ava managed to control herself to a small shiver. She remained standing, and silent, but from one moment to the next, she almost panicked.  

If it weren’t for Ava steadying herself with all her might, she might have collapsed anyway, considering what came next.

The walls of the building stretched away, into an endless abyss. The skylight was still two meters above Ava, hovering there in the great emptiness around her, glowing with the light of the [Familiar] beyond, but in every direction, darkness stood, and in those depths, hunted the Darkness, flapping his wings and slashing his claws across endless tunnels. White teeth flashed in the gloom. A jaw opened, then shut.  

Ava was in the Deep Underworld, but also not.

In the deep gloom, on the other side of the void crystal, a line of light slipped open, from left to right. That line stretched sideways, up and down, for it was not a line of light at all. It was an eye. It blinked open, all the way, an orb of hateful white light, suddenly filling the abyss with radiance.  

Melemizargo stared into Ava’s soul.

Ava was suddenly a little girl, covered in scales, barely able to control her body. She almost cried, but she was not a child. She hadn’t been a child in a long time.

The eye blinked.

Ava was a crone, ten years from her death bed and hunched with age. Bones ached. Wrinkled skin flapped in the wind as scales fell to the floor, too weak to hold on any longer.  

Ava’s mind did not break, oddly enough. She was beyond terror. She slipped back into something resembling sanity as this body, this horrid old thing, was exactly what Ava remembered. She smiled, then cackled like an old witch, stopping her laughter only to spit out, “Are you so stingy that you’d take my youth!”

“Yes.”

“Well give it back, you old bastard!”

The eye blinked and did not come back, as the dragon chuckled.

Ava was un-hunched. She didn’t even see the transformation happen. Scales lined the left and right sides of her body, perfectly attached to her unwrinkled skin. Her hands didn’t ache as she experimentally flexed her fingers into grips. She tried to check her Status to see if she was still a shadeling, but the blue box would not appear; she was still lost in Darkness. She could not see her own eyes, but she guessed she was still a shadeling. She glanced at the void crystal before her, then at the floating light above, then quickly decided on her words. She shouted at the gloom all around her, “I want to be a shifter again!”

No demands for a specific form. No demands for her old crone body. Just a simple want. Ava had already strained her luck quite far, but maybe she could stretch it a bit farther.  

“So many demands!” Melemizargo asked, “What do I get out of it?”

Ava paused, as her words died in her throat.

Going into this conversation was a danger all its own, but she got her feet under her fast enough. To speak to Melemizargo was to talk to insanity; if you didn’t flow with him, or give him an interesting thought to latch onto, then you were invariably gobbled up and spat out, or churned to dust by his uncaring passing. So Ava went along wherever Melemizargo went, at first, subtly guiding him to her desires, as one would lead a horde of hydras away from a settlement, or to try to escape a rivergrieve. And it had worked.  

But this right here. The coherence of his speech…

Melemizargo asked for something? In a true trade, sort of way? This was not how this was supposed to go. This was not how it usually went.

“… What do you want?”

“I want off this little world. I want to explore the Cosmology again.” He growled, “I want this trap of the Script broken...” He calmed. “Can you do any of that?”

“No.”  

“No! Why ever not?”

Ava had no idea why she said ‘no’. It was a sudden, deep desire that made her deny the Darkness; a primal hatred for all things shadow. But she couldn’t take her words back. Hedging speech and explanations tended to make Melemizargo either angry, or bored, and it was hard to say which one was worse.

Ava double down. “You don’t deserve to get off this prison of a planet.”

“What apt wording!”

Slithering wraps of shadow whipped around Ava’s torso and legs, pulling her arms tight, and up, lifting her into the air like she was on strings. Like she was a puppet. She did not panic. She just let it happen. She kept the barest tension in her arms, and her back, struggling just enough so that when her strength was broken—

The shadows pulled taut, ending what little resistance she had, pulling her arms straight out—  

She yelped.  

The pulling stopped. The shadows relaxed, but did not let her go—

Booming sounds came from above, knocking on Ava’s whole world.

From above. From the skylight. The radiant ooze on the other side pounded at the glass, but the shadows on this side closed ranks. Archmage Flatt would not be interfering in this event. Ava almost laughed, that the man would even try. What was he, but a milkbug fighting against a stonestorm? A gnat against a hurricane. Even archmages were nothing against the Darkness, and Ava was no different.

Ava laughed, as the enormity of her surroundings cracked what was left of her sanity like a soft egg—

“Bah. I broke you.” A resigned voice said, “Now now. None of that. You’re not allowed to go insane when you’re talking to me. That’s my curse. Come together. That’s it. Here you are.”

Shadows swirled around the small temple—

When did the temple come back?

—pews lifted from the darkness. Stone walls reasserted themselves as true, and not just an opinion. Ava felt a smooth clarity flow through her mind, brushing away the scared child part of herself that only came back with her rebirth. She was an old hand at dealing with Darkness. She would be that person again, but in a new body.

“Those are better thoughts.”

Ava suddenly realized, “You brought me back.” She said, “You never do that.” For some reason, Ava felt more scared than she had before. She started to shake. But she could still speak, “Why— What.” It wasn’t very good speech of demanding answers, but the sounds that came out of her mouth were mostly words.

“Agh. But. Wha— o.”  

Mostly.

“Let’s get this meeting back in the proper tunnel.” Melemizargo spoke from the walls, “Do you wish to be a shadeling, or a shifter?”

“Shii...” Ava tried. “Shifter. Myself. Before—”

“Tell me what you think of gods.”

“… collective...” Ava knew this answer. It was an old one. One her mother taught her once, when she was a little girl. What do you say when the Darkness asks you about gods? Somewhere in the back of her mind, a rote response took hold, then slipped out of her mouth, “A collective delusion.”

With a lilt of joy, Melemizargo asked, “Which delusion do you prefer?”

With a dark clarity flowing through her head, this was an easy answer. Ava had built monuments to her chosen god, in deep, red and white spaces of the Underworld. She wasn’t devout by any stretch of the word, but she had one goddess she always appreciated. She spoke the words, “A delusion of beauty.”

And something cracked inside, like a bone snapping, or a stone plate smashing on the ground. Pain lanced through her chest, sending Ava to the ground to her knees and hands, as her heart beat hard—

Ba-boom Ba-boom.

Ava clutched her chest, twisting the fabric of her shitty tunic in her grip. She coughed, a heavy wracking sound. She touched her face. Her hand came away red. Bright red. Brightest red. The ruby colors of her life’s blood was suddenly the only other color in the room aside from whites and greys. Even the skylight above had turned to white, to shine upon the crimson that had crawled out from inside Ava’s body.  

Everything was happening too fast. Ava’s fate was here.  

She coughed, and blood scattered; garnets upon the dark stone.

“… Aloethag?” Melemizargo asked, “Really? That horrid woman?”

Three moments had passed since Ava fell to the ground, three long moments that made her doubt that there would ever be more. Ava stared upon the red, and whispered a truth through bloody teeth, “Always.”

The red upon the ground turned into more, into puddles. Ava watched, transfixed, the pain in her chest tripling, but suddenly distant, as a hand reached up from that red space, into the air, into the light reaching down from above. A second hand joined the first. They came together like a dancer lifting up from the trap room of a theater, into the light of center stage, heralding the bloody avatar of a being of divine perfection. Her sculpted stone visage appeared like the sun of a new day, as all of her lifted into view.

Aloethag stood revealed. White stone and crimson blood. The body of the world’s daintiest orcol, but with pointed ears. A dress with garnets on the hem. Blood lifted from the ground to form her Red Halo, a hint at the ocean of blood at her command, mirroring the red of her eyes.

Red, and white. That was Ava’s god. That was Aloethag. Creation and art given form through bloody beauty carved upon the world for all to see. The orcols did not respect Aloethag like they should. But Aloethag was the patron goddess of the Jadescale clan, and she had always held a special place in Ava’s heart. After all, what was the point of life if there was no beauty?

Ava clutched her chest again as another wave of pain crashed through her body. She grunted, barely managing to remain upright on the ground. There was no way she could stand, there was no way to give Aloethag the proper deference—

Ava screamed as her heart burst, and something crawled around inside her chest.

Time slowed.  

Another god joined the ceremony.

Death sat in the back row of the temple; her own mirror image, waiting for the moment she decided to permanently leave this life. She would have told Death to fuck off, but—

Aloethag looked down at Ava, like she was a bit of dirt on the hem of her dress. “Make her an elf.”

“No.” Melemizargo said, “I’m trying to create bridges, Aloethag. Not problems. Solve your elf problems on your own time.”

“Phbbt!” Aloethag flapped her lips at the walls of the room, then said, “I want elves back, Melemizargo. Proper elves, too. This one would fit! Give her to me as I wish to receive her.”

“No.” Melemizargo added, “Figment.”

Aloethag scowled.

Ava almost laughed, if not for the mulched meat that was the insides of her torso, and the chill creeping through her body. She tried to move a finger, but it was all she could do to not fully collapse to the floor. Aloethag was brutal; she hadn’t changed at all since the last time Ava lived.

Death spoke up from the back of the room, “She doesn’t want me, so take her, Aloethag, as she is.”

Aloethag looked down at the woman. Disdain filled her visage. “Of course I was going to take her, you old fool. She’s mine, after all.” She looked to the walls. “Release her.”

Melemizargo chuckled. Time resumed.  

Reality shifted. All at once, five things happened. Darkness fully retreated from the temple. Aloethag vanished. Death remained for a brief moment, before turning to nothing. The doors opened, like normal swinging stone doors, and not like the wings they had been before.  

And then the skylight broke, as gentle warmth and brightness descended onto Ava. She smiled as a length of metal glowed in her vision, touching her chest with heat that spread outward, pulling her back together. Ava’s heart beat hard, then softer, and softer still. Breath came easier, as thick air spilled out of her mouth, and turned the blood that covered her into nothing.

She barely understood what was happening as she coughed three times, spitting out bloody shards of a broken rad with each convulsion. Those rads disintegrated into the thickening air, as with her last thoughts, Ava summoned her Status. This time, it worked.  

--

Ava Jadescale

Shifter (Snake), age 226

Level 0, Class: None

Exp: 0/100

Class: -/-

Points: 0

HP - 0/90 - 160 per day

MP - 0/190 - 190 per day

Strength - 9 / +0 / [9]

Vitality - 16 / +0 / [16]

Willpower - 19 / +0 / [19]

Focus - 19 / +0 / [19]

--

She had done it?  

She had. She took the win.

And then she passed out.

- - - -

Erick sat back on his couch, saying, “Her eyes were normal.”

Back in Candlepoint, Erick gently lifted Ava into arms made of light. He floated her out of the dark temple, past Slip, who seemed surprised, then past other shadelings, who reeled back, vanishing quick, or stayed strong, staring at Ava’s floating, sleeping, and breathing body. Some gave quiet, hopeful cheers. Others looked away.

Erick took Ava to an empty business, close to the Crystal Courtyard, ensuring that some people saw where she floated, so that no one thought she was just taken away. The former business might have been some sort of general store before Mephistopheles and Zaraanka emptied it of everything of value, but now it was empty. Erick cast a few spells into the small space, creating a nice conjured four-poster bed, with a dense mattress, soft sheets, and nice pillows. He placed Ava in the bed, and lightly covered her sleeping form. A [Cleanse] took care of the extra blood and other uncomfortable things that had come out of her since the [Cleanse] in the temple, while [Duplicate] and [Teleport Object] got a small workout, bringing meats, cheeses, bread, and wine, to a bedside table. Erick wrapped the meal in a [Scent Ward] so as not to wake Ava, then put a nice [Air Conditioning Ward] into the space, to drive back the moisture and heat of the Crystal Forest air.

He also left a note, asking for a meeting, when she woke and if she felt like a meeting. All she had to do was seek out the [Mend] and [Cleanse] Ophiel, stationed under the Crystal.  

While he was doing that, he also watched Syllea, with his normal eyes, who currently had a few tendrils of thought drifting from her blonde head.  

Syllea stared at the screen floating in front of her, showing Ava’s sleeping form, lost in thought. She mumbled, “Did that actually happen?” She seemed to come back to herself over long moments, and then all at once. She whipped around to look to Bayth. “If she picked Aloethag—” Syllea closed her mouth.

Bayth frowned, as she moved her eyes from Syllea, to the viewing screen, then to Erick. She nodded; a tiny, almost imperceptible movement.  

Erick guessed what was going on. With the only one not in-the-know, or at least not that Erick knew, upstairs in her room and purposefully trying to ignore what was going on down here, he whispered, “Can you get to her through a Red Dream? To confirm? I’m not sure how that works.”

Bayth locked eyes on Erick, then her brown face turned red with a blush, to vanish just as fast as pure childish joy inundated every part of the large, muscular woman. Then she looked down and away, as she flinched backward, breathing deep, and saying nothing.

Syllea had a reaction similar to her old friend. But she got over it fast, quickly moving on to something close to anger as she rounded on Erick, saying, “How do you know—!”

“Got roped into a Quest for the goddess,” Erick answered, simply. “Ten million Health spilled in her name.”

Syllea looked to the ground, her green face turning red with embarrassment as she said, “No. Stop talking. No more words.”

Bayth had a different reaction to Erick’s reveal. She suddenly shifted from contrite, muttering, “You’re not lying?” to laughing loud, when Erick’s face told her all she needed to know. She switched to gallows humor, blurting out, “You’re fucked! Just like the rest of us.” She rapidly added, smiling, “Uh. Archmage, sir.”

Syllea again rounded on her friend, saying, “No more talking.” She turned back to Erick, her face turning slightly red. “No more of that. This discussion is over.” She declared. “Everyone shut up.”

“Hell and Celes, Syllea.” Bayth said, “Grow up.” She asked, “What did you do to deserve that, Archmage Flatt?”

“Something that is not my place to explain. But I had a Dream, and was quickly told that it was a deep cultural thing, and—” Erick powered through whatever cultural faux pas he had committed, by asking, “Is being in a Dream stronger confirmation of a real person, than other methods?”

Syllea went silent.

Bayth laughed again, saying, “Shit yeah, it is!” She joked, “If you can get it, am I right?” She looked to Poi, and with an edge to her voice that was not quite friendly, said, “He gets it!”

Poi deadpanned, “I am sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Syllea remained silent. And now, she was still. Erick looked to the archmage, and saw her anger.

Quite a few things had happened when Erick blurted out his personal knowledge of the Dreaming. Bayth seemed to warm up to Erick, by at least two degrees, while simultaneously turning deeply cold toward the Mind Mage in the room. Back when Al revealed to Erick about the Dreaming, and about Red Dreams, he had made sure to kick Poi out of the room, firsthand.  

… But Poi already knew all about the Dreaming?

Eh. Even if Erick asked the man, he likely wouldn’t explain what was going on, there. It was probably a Mind Mage Organization thing; the Dreaming seemed rather like mind magic to Erick. Maybe there was a cultural hatred?  

… There was probably a cultural hatred, there.

Syllea had a much easier to understand reaction. She was as embarrassed as a schoolgirl who’s dad was making dad jokes in front of all the other kids.

He said, “Sorry, Syllea. I did not mean to offend.”

 Bayth chuckled once, but looked to Syllea, and reevaluated her reaction. All mirth on the muscular woman’s face, faded. She went silent, and took a step behind Syllea, retaking her position as the archmage’s guard.

Syllea lifted her eyes to Erick, and said, “If everyone has worked the heat from their blood, I would like to return to the topic of this shadeling— This person. Ava Jadescale.”

Erick glanced through Ophiel, to Candlepoint. He came back, saying, “She still sleeping. I used a rod of [Greater Treat Wounds] on her, so she should be okay.”

Syllea half nodded. She said, “That’s not exactly— I meant. That… experience, was not what I was expecting from the transformation process. Aloethag’s avatar appeared, along with at least one other, hidden from my sight, and only visible through Aloethag’s interactions toward two different parts of the temple. I am guessing Phagar was the interloper, based upon The Bloody Queen’s barest deference, but I cannot be sure. It certainly wasn’t Rozeta.”

“Phagar was there.” Erick said, “That was definitely him— Or. Them, I guess. I saw Phagar, for sure.”

Syllea paused again, but quickly recovered, and said, “Okay.” She eloquently added, “Ah.” She asked, “You saw him?”

“Is he really a ‘him’?” Erick asked, genuinely curious.  

“Yes.” Syllea said, “Always.”

“Then yes, I saw him. Looked like a copy of Ava, but greyer. Did you not?”

Syllea eyed Erick, then said, “Putting that aside...” She turned to Bayth, saying, “Could we put up a Dark Temple in the Commune? An official one? It would be much easier than shipping people off to Ar’Kendrithyst, but it might be more dangerous to spread around Dark Temples.”

Bayth immediately answered, “No one wants a Dark Temple near the city, or the commune.”

“Right.” Syllea said, “I doubt Melemizargo would want to consecrate a Dark Temple in Treehome, anyway.”

“That, too,” Bayth said.

Erick brought the discussion back on topic, asking, “Anyone have any idea what we just saw, though?”

Bayth shrugged. “Your guess is better than mine.”

Erick said, “It’s really not. I’ve stayed away from everything Melemizargo related that I could. I’ve only been on Veird a year, too, you know.”

Bayth smiled. “Ah. Well… Melemizargo did what he wanted to do, as he usually does, and Ava got something out of it, which almost never happens how the petitioner wants it to happen. And other gods were involved. That’s new, too.”

Syllea looked to Erick, like she had a question to ask, but she did not speak.  

Erick ignored the archmage’s reluctance, for now, and turned to Poi. The sapphire scaled man shrugged.

Erick turned back to Syllea, and in the spirit of sharing, asked, “What spell did you use to [Scry]? I used my [Familiar], as you saw, but also [Greater Lightwalk].”

Bayth smirked, like she had gotten confirmation of a small secret.  

Syllea showed no reaction, as she said, “I used a [Viewing] that has been mutated with both [Witness] and [Magic Eye]. [True Sight Viewing].” She popped a blue box into the air.

--

True Sight Viewing, instant, super long range, 4109 Mana

View a part of the world familiar to you, and all the magical forces at play therein.  

--

“That seems… very useful,” Erick said.

“It is.”

Erick had casually used the light in the room to look over Syllea’s shoulder during Ava’s transformation, and saw nothing more than what he already saw, with Ophiel on the scene in Candlepoint. Maybe he needed to ask her about some sort of [True Sight] spell, for himself?

Erick asked, “What did your [True Sight] see?”

“I saw a lot.” Syllea began, “What we witnessed was Soul Magic on a divine scale, along with what I’d hesitatingly call Fate Magic. It almost looked like a Spatial spell, but not quite.” She said, “What I witnessed, was that Ava’s soul was trapped inside of the rad in her chest, and then the rad broke. Usually, this kills the monster, but there’s an even chance of them going into a berserk state as the body becomes an uncontrolled beast of madness and pain for a short while, until the body dies. Neither of those outcomes happened, because Aloethag’s touch prevented the release of the soul, as well as transforming Ava’s body itself into something capable of holding that soul.

“So yes, that was a ‘[Resurrection]’, sort of. Maybe even a true one.  

“And since Melemizargo doesn’t have a divine magical signature —all he has is shadows— I highly doubt Aloethag was a construction.” She blushed for a moment, adding, “It would be easy enough to meet Ava in… that other space, and confirm her identity that way. That was actually going to be the...” She frowned, her voice trailing off.

Bayth stepped in. “If any of the guys from the commune came back from being a shadeling, that’s how we were going to check them; a little foray into the Red.” She added, “When they turned shadeling, they were cut from the Dreaming.”  

Erick said, “Ah. Good. No need to involve the Mind Mages, then.”

“HA!” Bayth said, “Yeah.”

Syllea latched on to the new topic, saying, “We tried to get confirmation of our shadelings as who they used to be. The Mind Mages helped, at first...”  

Bayth stepped in again. “They said the shadelings were the people they were before, but wouldn’t tell us how they knew. It was a dead end.”

Syllea got over herself, saying, “The Dreaming was our last, best hope for confirmation of a true transformation back to orcol, after we solved the actual problem of them being shadeling.” She added, “Speaking of which, I need to go talk to your Mayor, now, regarding some assistance for getting some of our transformed people into Ar’Kendrithyst.”

Poi spoke up, “Would you like me to inform her of your coming?”

“If you would be so kind, Mister Fulisade.”

Poi nodded.  

Erick asked, “Before you go, I’d like to ask about what Ava said, regarding the gods being delusions.”

“Pure cow shit.” Syllea said, “The gods are real, Erick. They draw their existence from believers, and in return, they assist us in our lives, but that does not mean that they are fake. They’re just different from we mortal beings. Energy existences, some would say. Born of a collective consciousness, others might venture. But like money and time and mana, they’re all real, and at the same time, not. I’m sure we’ll hear a lot more about whatever delusions Melemizargo believes, after our people brave Ar’Kendrithyst. Hopefully some of them come back to us, as they were.” She stood, saying, “I must delay my promised lesson to tomorrow, if you please. It seems like a thousand things are happening, and I do not have nearly as good of a [Familiar] as you.”

Erick stood, saying, “Of course, Syllea. Let me escort you out.”

Syllea said, “I am afraid I must be rude, and take the quick path.” She reached out behind her, to take Bayth’s outstretched hand. “Till next time.”

Erick smiled, saying, “Till next time.”

Syllea and her muscular friend blipped away in a flex of empty air.  

Erick breathed a bit easier after they vanished. Syllea was easy to talk to, and Bayth seemed okay, but while they had a thousand things happening with them, Erick also had his own thousand problems to solve, and they only looked to get worse before they got better.

“Oh,” Erick said, remembering, “I need to ask her how to adjust the color of my mana, too. She’d probably know.” Alternatively, he wished he could ask Kiri to go run some errands, but… “Poi? Have you heard from Kiri?”

“Kiri is a day away from completing [Lightwalk]. She should be back by tomorrow evening.”

“Thank the gods.” Erick asked, “I need to make it up to Teressa, for asking her to run errands. Any suggestions?”

Poi looked to Erick like he turned purple, or something, then said, “We’re at your command, Erick.” He added, “But monsterized haraah beef is a good choice.”

Erick smiled. “That’s a good idea!” He asked, “Would it be wrong to ask her to go get it?”

Poi grinned. “Not at all.”

On a more serious note, Erick asked, “What was your take on that whole transformation? Were you watching?”

“… I was.” Reluctantly, Poi said, “It doesn’t matter what we saw. People will believe what is convenient for them.”

Erick eyed Poi. “And what did we see, Poi?”

“A divine [Resurrection]. A goddess asking for a woman to be transformed into an elf. The people of that goddess, watching her ask for such a thing.” Poi said, “They hid it well, and you didn’t even notice, but both Syllea and Bayth were ready to kill Ava when Aloethag spoke those words.”

“Ah.” Erick wondered if he needed to speak to someone else on the matter of orcols and elves. Al, perhaps?

“A good idea, sir,” Poi said.

Erick nodded, then gave a glance to Candlepoint, to see if they needed anyth—

He sat back down on the couch, and said, “I guess I’ll talk to Al tomorrow.”

As he sent his senses back to the shadeling city, he felt a sense of calm come over him. It was not a supernatural calm, or a magical calm, it was the calm of seeing work to be done, and then being able to do it, and help people in the process. This right here, was great. It was a lot, and it was never ending, but helping people was who Erick had always been.

- - - -  

Ophiel descended onto the blackened Farms, where ash piled deep, and violet eels had been burned alongside all the other greenery. Not much had survived the fiery purge. The rice paddies were completely gone. The wheat fields were laid low. The infestation must have been a lot worse than Erick had seen, for as he flew over the destruction, he saw that a field of potatoes, a plot of corn, and several trees were the only sections that had been saved. They were sections that had been furthest from the lake, without attachment to the ditches that had been filled with eel water.  

Erick looked down from above, and saw that three of those rescued trees were children of the Myriad Citrus, and that was nice. They had been planted beside an orchard of apples, and they looked rather good in that location, since these non-myriad citrus only produced blood oranges, with the same red skin to match. They almost looked like apple trees, but not quite. It was a shape that they were nothing like their multi-fruited progenitor, and might never be anything like the Myriad Citrus. But oranges were still good. Everyone liked oranges. Everyone liked apples, too. Every farmer was partaking of those fruits they had saved, while waiting for Erick to show. Several people were eating those blood oranges.

Valok was one of them.  

Ophiel flew closer. “Hello, Valok, everyone.”

Valok tossed the red peel into a stone bucket, then wiped his hands on his rough pants, saying, “Erick. Good timing. We just finished with the fourth burn and till.”  

That’s why Erick had come here; he had noticed they had finished.

Valok said, “We need a [Cleanse] over the land. It’ll take an hour to plant the seeds, and then we’ll need some exalted rain.”

Others noticed Ophiel, and stepped closer, but Valok was the only one who spoke.

“Of course!” Erick called in a few more Ophiel from around the city, to fly across the ashy land. They released [Mirage Slime]s to automatically [Cleanse] the fields, to clean away ash and charred eel corpses. Erick asked, “Did you all hear about Ava, yet?”

It had only been ten minutes, at the most, but Erick knew that word of these sorts of things spread very fast. Valok frowned. No one said a word to Ophiel, but everyone watched, intently.

Daetroi, Apogough’s father, stepped forward, asking, “Did she really survive?”

“Yes.”  

Immedietly, there were cheers, some small, some loud. Erick watched, as cloudy grey eyes turned brighter, whiter, more full of hope.

Erick said, “I had to use a rod of [Greater Treat Wounds], but she survived.” Every onlooker stared at Ophiel, some with hope in their brighter eyes, others with fear, or trepidation. Erick said, “The transformation is not for everyone. I’m not sure if my own intervention was what saved her, or not.”

One of the farmers spoke up, “What’d she look like when you saved her?”

“Like herself. Injured inside, though.” Erick stressed, “Heavily injured, I think. She was spitting up a lot of blood.”

Erick had dispensed the news; the crowd took it and ran.

Another woman said, “The first guy to fail out of the transformation was patty meat. Bones and flesh all mashed together.”

“I heard he was stupid,” an orcol man said. When others gave him weird looks, he added, “What! I mean. Like. Real dumb. Like. Don’t let him talk to anyone in charge kinda dumb, because he’ll-get-himself-killed dumb.”

Three people clicked their tongue, as others nodded knowingly. One said, “That guy. I remember him. He was from the Sovereign Cities. They keep them dumb on purpose, out there.”

The entire rest of the group, save Erick, said variations of “Ohhh.”

Another farmer said, “The second one to fail came out looking fine. Perfectly preserved corpse.”

Erick said, “Phagar was there to oversee the event. Maybe that person chose the End.”

“I got too much shit to do in this life to choose the End,” said a tall incani man. “If someone survived, I’m going to go next!” He nodded. “I just decided. I’m done with this. I love you all. You’re great. This has been the worst experience of all my lives combined, but I want to vanish into somewhere else. Anywhere else but here. And I want [Cleanse], dammit.”

A few people nodded in sympathy. One said, “Yeah. I hear that.”

Valok said, “If you leave this city, you will be tracked down by governmental forces outside of your control. If you mess up once, if they catch you, you’re dead.” He stepped toward the incani, saying, “Orzo! Can you honestly tell me that you’re capable of evading an army? A guard. Any guard?”

Orzo said, “I can live in the middle of nowhere. The Wasteland has a thousand thousand hidden places.”

A human woman spoke up. “I just want to see my kids again. It’s only been a year since I died the first time. They’re probably still in Portal. If I can see them. If I can hug them, I could die.” She declared, “I could meet my End.”

An orcol man said, “Now you’re being dumb. If you raised your kids right they ought to kill you on sight.”

The woman blanked for a moment, her grey eyes going wide as she stared at the orcol. She almost looked ready to beat the man, who was literally twice her height, into the ground, and then further down. But then she broke. Tears welled. She vanished into shadows.  

An orcol woman clicked her tongue, then muttered some harsh words in a language Erick did not know.

The orcol man paled, then mumbled, “Ah, shit.”

The orcol woman decked the man, sending him to the ground, declaring, “Stupid!”  

The man gazed into the dirt, under his face. “I deserved that.”

“Yeah, you did.” The orcol woman reached down, and helped the man to stand. She asked, “Why did you say that to her? No one wants to hear that shit!”

A few people averted their eyes from the scene, but most looked on.

“I don’t know!” He said, trying to defend himself. “It just came out!”

“Nghhhhh.” The woman said a spat of words in some other language Erick did not know.

The group almost split from there, as people began to speak to each other in smaller groups, but Erick brought them back together, saying, “If you wish to try your luck at transforming back, you should probably speak to Ava to see how she managed her reincarnation. There was a lot there I didn’t see.”

“What’s a ‘reincartation’?” asked a boy, barely a man.

A lot of people gave Ophiel weird looks, while others gave the kid relieved looks, which was to be expected. Erick had used the English word ‘reincarnation’ when he spoke, for Ecks had no equivalent. What Eck’s had, was a lot of different words that were derived from ‘summon’. The idea of ‘[Resurrection]’ was actually a bastardization of the word ‘summon’. Most soul magic, as Erick understood it, was hinged on the word ‘summon’.

Back when ‘reincarnation’ was first paraded around in a small dirt room under the prairies of Odaali, when Erick was retaking the city from the Daydropper, they used ‘high tier summoning’ to speak of the creation of a Breach Demon. That string of words was not adequate for what was happening here, because for Breach Demons, they got to keep their old Stats in addition to restarting from level 0.  

Erick didn’t know for sure, but he sincerely doubted that Melemizargo, or any other deity interested in participating in this bridging project, would want to start creating what was effectively level 150 people. Ava was probably reincarnated into a new body, without what came before.  

Probably.

Erick said, “Reincarnation is what the idea was called back where I came from; back on Earth. It’s the rebirth of a soul in a new body, but not exactly as who they were before, because of change that has happened from one life to the next. It’s not really [Resurrection], because make no mistake, you’ve all been changed by the horror of your experience.” He said, “What you’ve gone through is not okay, and there is no quick fix to the trauma of Candlepoint, but it will get better, because we’ll make it better. One day at a time.

No one spoke. Some looked to Ophiel with questioning gazes, or barely hidden fear.  

Valok said, “That’s enough philosophy for today. The cleaner slimes are done. Back to work.”

Erick left it at that.  

As the group left the shade of the trees, and stepped out into the half-light of empty fields, some looked like a weight had fallen from their shoulders. Those people walked tall, their eyes aglow, as they carried bags of seeds into the cleaned fields. Some lingered, moving slow, but still moving.  

Ophiel remained under the blood orange trees, as he watched the farmers telekinetically plant seeds into dark soil.  

On a whim, Erick turned around to the children of the Myriad Citrus and cast [Tree of Light] onto each one. White light soaked into the bark, turning browns to glowing tans. Radiance flowed inside the trees, like ink spreading in water. Leaves became neon green, and red fruits flickered to different colors, and shapes. White, yellow, pale yellow, orange, blue, green, and red. Thorns briefly appeared, all across every tree at once, but they quickly vanished underneath the bark.

Erick laughed, seeing that these three trees were true descendants of the original. They were myriad citrus, too.

One tree had been slightly less large than the other two, but with Erick’s magic soaking into them, all three were now the same size, and all three glowed with the same light. They stretched upward, into the sky, as their roots sprung from the soil, like twisting bean vines. Those roots twirled around until they connected to each other. Connected roots became thick, and heavy, solidifying the joining of two trees to each other. Erick didn’t see the second and third tree connect, but they must have, because now all three trees grew together, in time to one another’s movements, reaching for the sky, their branches laden with a myriad of fruits. In minutes, they dominated their edge of the apple orchard, rising into the air, but they did not push the other fruit trees away. They just glowed with a gentle light, as their three canopies became one, and spread outward, becoming a roof of green four meters up and twice that wide, supported on pillar-thick trunks.  

As [Tree of Light] flowed into their bodies, activating the dormant magics therein, it also settled down into their cores. Bright neons became subdued glows in the deep cracks of the bark, and along the veins of the leaves above. All three trees were already covered by fruits, but now those fruits doubled, filling up the underside of the canopy with ripe produce ready for picking.

“Awesome,” Erick whispered, taking in the moment.  

He reached Ophiel’s wing toward a red orange. The branch lowered, slightly, then released the fruit into Ophiel’s waiting grip. Erick held the gently glowing fruit close to Ophiel, as the glow dissipated.  

He said to the trees, “Thank you.”  

He almost wanted to bring it home. But… not yet. So he blipped the blood orange to another location. Maybe Ava would like the red fruit when she woke.  

… It occurred to Erick that he had never used the term ‘blood orange’ around anyone, and suddenly, that was a good thing. Having the term ‘blood’ attached to any sort of edible fruit seemed like it was asking for trouble. Erick decided that someone else could come up with a name for the fruit.

- - - -

Pulling back to the sky, where platinum rain gathered and fell, Ophiel watched as the people of Candlepoint made their city more of what they wanted it to be.

Supplies and necessities had been evacuated and stored in three locations, and guarded by Slip’s people. The buildings weren’t guarded that well, and certainly not as a measure to hoard wealth and resources. They were guarded merely so that everyone who asked for something got most of what they wanted. A line of people curled out of each of those warehouses, waiting for their chance to get inside. The lines moved quickly.

Erick doubled a few things here and there, inside the building. Some people probably saw this happen, for this was a city where eyes hid in every shadow. But that was okay. There would be enough food, or clothes Erick had [Mend]ed and [Cleanse]d, or blankets and otherwise, with this doubling. In a few days, Erick would see if he could set up some trade between Spur and Candlepoint, for other necessary things. He’d have to talk to Silverite about that, but she might let it happen.

The wall around Candlepoint slowly became more than the hastily erected thing Erick had pulled from the ground, as shadelings slowly, methodically, straightened the structure that separated the city from the mimics, while extending that fortification deeper into the sands. A walkway flowed up from the top of the wall as people passed; they had a long way to go to fully fix the fortification that ran all the way around the Lake, and Candlepoint. They would not finish today.  

Several towers, thick and tall things, had already been erected at key points around the lake, and the exterior of the city itself, while the gates that had been to the north and the south of Candlepoint had been closed. The only official way into Candlepoint, besides [Teleport], was a large, plain gate in the east.  

 The lake seemed to be doing okay.  

Tiny brown fish swam in the upper waters of the lake, but a few ventured deeper, down into the dark blue, and then further, looking for violet eels to munch upon. Most of the flits managed to find eels, hiding in the sand in the flat parts of the lake. Erick had dumped a great deal of fish into these waters, but the lake itself was five times the size of the original Candlepoint, which itself was almost the same size as Spur.  

Ah, well, its was actually a lot larger than ‘5 times’, if Erick wanted to get technical.  

Floating high in the sky, Erick marveled at the size of the lake, for what was maybe the twentieth time.  

Spur was mostly 12 kilometers in diameter, or 120 square kilometers large. Candlepoint had been 10 kilometers across, or around 80 square kilometers big. But the lake was 50 kilometers across. At fifty kilometers across, on average, and maybe a kilometer deep, Erick had a hard time remembering if there was any lake like quite like this one back on Earth. It was almost perfectly circular—

Lake Okeechobee, in Florida. The thought came to Erick in a flash. Yup. This one was like that one, but…  

It was probably not an apt comparison, for that Earth lake was rather shallow, wasn’t it? The Great Lakes weren’t a good comparison, either, for those ones were much, much larger than this lake, and yet, this lake would certainly be something important, in the coming years. Very important. Candlepoint could fish on this lake. They could survive on this resource, alone, as soon as the eels were dead and Erick stocked it with the first generation of fish...

… Erick decided to speed up the process of eel hunting. He cast a [Cascade Imaging] into the waters, while forming the map above the surface. It was a three meter wide map, that revealed the underwater reality of the 2000 square kilometer surface area lake. And it was deep. 50 kilometers wide. More than a kilometer deep in some areas Erick had not noticed before. The map started off white, but he had searched for ‘Violet Eels’, and when the spell had a moment to run, it turned blue all at once. Fully blue. Fully infested with violet eels.  

And yet, deeper blue in two parts of the deeper lake.

Erick could have slapped himself!

There were three springs at the bottom. Were those springs always there? Maybe they were? Had Erick just not noticed them? It was entirely possible. The lake was huge.

Each of the springs wound down into the Underworld, into parts unknown. Each of them spilled eels into the lake. Erick had only managed to cap off the largest of the springs, and he was mad at himself for missing the smaller ones. To be fair, they were small springs, barely a few meters across, and there was almost two thousand square kilometers of underwater space to search. But, still.  

If Erick didn’t have magic, he would have thought this an impossible problem for one person to solve. But he did have magic, and the problem was already being solved, naturally.  

While the mud flits would monsterize with all this space and quickly begin eating all that blue, that would take a while. Erick, and Slip, had guessed it would take a week. That’s what the flit sellers in Oceanside had guessed, too, based on what Erick had Teressa tell them, when she went to purchase the fish. But that was an estimate made without a concern given to a constant reinfection.

In both of the new springs, flits and eels waged minor wars, far away from each outflow, while the springs themselves were violet eel strongholds, where eels had become like long, flowing purple hair, their mouths buried into the stone around each outflow. They had become ‘streamers’; they had monsterized, growing to ten times their normal length, to become little more than eel factories. The clear water of the spring had turned cloudy as the streamers’ skins parted, a thousand holes opening up on violet skin, expelling juvenile violet eels into the water, looking like wriggling maggots.

Erick almost puked as he watched the ten meter lengths of violet eels giving constant birth to more of its kind, from every other centimeter of its flailing body.

Half a kilometer out from the spring, those juveniles began to grow into larger adults, fueled by magical growth as they tried to fill their new dominion. Two kilometers from the springs, those juveniles fought mud flits, who themselves had already begun monsterizing, turning into sleek bronze hunters each the size of a hand, and each able to eat violet eels by the hundreds.  

But ‘by the hundreds’ was still not enough, when there were hundreds of ‘eel factories’ by the springs, each spilling out thousands of eels every second.

And that was enough of that. Fuck these damn eels.

Ophiels hovered to the center of the springs, and cast their magics.

Halos of light became storms of underwater lightning that ripped and tore and burned and fried, chaining through the cloudy water, touching from streamer to eel, and then to the second and third generations of eels inside the first. It was a crash of lightning unlike Erick had ever expected, but Ophiel was fine, and the eels were not. [Fumination Aura] also reached half a kilometer underwater, killing everything it touched with a billion lightning feelers. When the main targets were gone, after a full ten seconds of blasting underwater, the halos around each Ophiel returned to calm, solid light, hovering around each Ophiel at a medium distance. Lightning flickered downward, occasionally, striking something that attempted to come up from below, killing it before it got too far.  

This was good. Erick had not expected [Fulmination Aura] to be that effective when there were this many small targets, but it was, and it was great.  

With the main infestations ended. Erick cast a few [Mirage Slime]s into the water to clean up some of the mess. Cloudy water turned clear, as Erick plugged the extra springs with more [Prismatic Ward]s.  

… The plug over the first spring suddenly popped.  

No matter! Erick cast another density into the original spring.  

With all three plugged up, the mud flits still had a job ahead of them, but it wouldn’t drag on for too long. The original time frame of a week was probably okay.

Erick informed Slip of what had happened.  

The schedule for more additions to the lake was pushed back a few more days, and Ophiel returned to the sky, to continue watching the city transform in front of his many, many eyes.  

There was an argument over wardlights near the courthouse, but people found solutions and compromises with their neighbors. Rainbow wardlights came down from the sky, where they had formerly been attached to buildings that no longer existed. White wardlights went up, onto new buildings. Colored lights were reserved for specialty structures, like Zaraanka’s Pink House, or the Courthouse’s occasional blue light.  

Stone signs went up around the lake, around the ridge of land that had been raised as a barrier to the water, warning of the three springs and the extended violet eel problem. Erick added his own [Stoneshape] signs to the ones Slip posted, near the Courtyard of the Crystal, asking people if they wanted anything specific in the lake. It wasn’t long before some people started adding texts to Erick’s board.  

And speaking of the Courtyard of the Crystal; almost all of the surrounding buildings were taken down in a few hours, as soon as the construction crews of the city got around to it. All except for the Dark Temple, to the north side of the public space. That building would not be touched. But that didn’t mean the land around it would remain unchanged. As the construction crews passed, beautification crews came in, planting trees here and there to take the places of the buildings no longer existent. People wanted something nicer than nothing to look at, after all.  

 Erick smiled to himself, as he saw a few others cast [Tree of Light] among some of the trees, blooming saplings to full, radiant heights rather fast.  

With an eye back to the Farms, and the children of the Myriad Citrus, Erick witnessed shadelings sitting down against the tree trunks, eyes closed, enjoying the soft brightness of the gently neon trees. More than a few were even eating oranges, and blood oranges. Not many people liked the other flavors. Erick left some [Stoneshape]d signs, naming the fruits in the trees based on color, and what they could be used for; lemonade, candied for cakes or treats, marmalade, rinds for teas, or for scenting a room with good smells. Lemons had the most uses, from cleaning to cooking in almost every kind of meal, to making delicious sour cream. He did end up naming the blood oranges, though. He called them ‘Scarlet Oranges’. Maybe the name would stick?

Giving the trees a quick once-over, he saw that most of the fruits had been changed back to red or orange fruits. The white, yellow, pale yellow, blue, and green options, were raised high, with only one or two of those colors for every red or orange fruit hanging down, in easy reach of the shadelings resting in the neon grove.

… Erick really wanted to make a tree [Familiar], now. Something to ensure a few things were automatically good for Candlepoint. Like area defenses, or exalted rains, or even just [Cleanse]s whenever they were asked for. Maybe he should work on that a little.  

But there was just so much else to do, and he still wasn’t quite sure on his potential tree [Familiar]. The grove of light-infused myriad citrus had given him some deep inspiration, but the full idea wasn’t quite there, yet. Still! There was more to do, and Candlepoint was fine, for now.  

Erick left an Ophiel in the gazebo part of the Crystal, to watch over the Dark Temple, to warn Erick if anyone else was going to try their luck today, as well as provide [Mend] and [Cleanse] for whoever asked. He left another Ophiel in the air over the Farms, providing platinum rain for as long as Valok and everyone else required that rain. They would likely work past dark tonight, for the produce they pulled from the ground was already trailing off into the city, exchanging hands to whoever could cook it fast enough. He left a few other Ophiels hovering around the city, answering calls for [Cleanse] or [Mend] assistance, and blipping fights apart, though that last necessity hadn’t happened in half a day.  

With eyes floating above it all, Erick marveled at the community that had survived in the wake of Bulgan, and Melemizargo, and all the evil that this world could muster. These people were working together for the common good, and though there were raised emotions here and there, and harsh words happened everywhere, and more than a few people cried in the dark corners of the city, there were just as many people building for their neighbors, or sharing stories of hardships, or offering shoulders to cry upon.  

 Erick pulled back his sight from the city, and went to the kitchen, to help make dinner.  

Teressa had picked up a hundred pounds of haarah beef from the market, and while she was cooking it with a ton of bluebell, Erick helped to make the potatoes, the corn, and the salad. Somewhere in the middle of cooking, Justine came out, and asked if she could help. Erick, thrilled, set her on to making more lemon cookies, and showed her how to make coftea.

—Erick added cookies to the list of recipes for citrus, back in Candlepoint.

Dinner was great, though Erick had to fill most of the silence. Justine had been deeply affected by her panic attack and Erick would have called her symptoms part of PTSD, if not for the fact that they were still in the thick of the problem. But maybe she wasn’t in the deep part of it anymore? Maybe this, right here, a calm time and a nice meal in a part of the world that wasn’t currently at war, but where death and pain loomed everywhere else…

Maybe this was as good as it got? Maybe this, right here, was far enough away from the fighting to count as the ‘post’ in the ‘post traumatic stress disorder’?

While Erick was considering that, and considering talking to Poi, to ask the man if Mind Mages could help with these sorts of neurological disorders, Poi informed him that Syllea wanted to come back, and fulfill part of her bargain of trade.

“Well sure!” Erick said, “Tell her to come on down. We got dessert.”

Justine’s eyes went wide, as she made herself scarce.  

Seeing Justine run off like that… Maybe Erick should have thought before he answered. But this was knowledge that he needed, and if Syllea was ready, then now was a good a time as any.

- - - -

The sun set across from Erick’s private garden, outside the window of the sunroom. The bitter, strong scent of coftea filled the air, along with the sweet, light scent of iced, lemon cookies. This was, mostly, a comfortable sort of meeting. Mostly. After pleasantries and refreshments were exchanged, Erick sat on one couch, while Syllea sat on the other.  

Poi, Bayth, and Teressa, were in the other room, gently talking to each other. All three of them had easy access to this room, if something went wrong, but Erick didn’t think that anything would go wrong. He wasn’t going to attack Syllea, and she certainly wasn’t going to attack him, so why the extra preparation?  

Erick just went ahead and asked, “Is Bayth worried that I’m going to do something?” He added, “I’m not even sure why my guys are acting like that.”

Syllea smiled, as she set down her coftea. She had had to dilute it with a lot of sugar and milk, turning the normally brown drink into something shy of tanned paper, but she had had half a mug, so far. “There have been some developments back at Treehome.” She asked, “Do you know anything about orcol war parties?”

Erick shook his head. “Nope. I probably heard something about them, but I cannot recall.”

“Bayth is my oldest friend, but she’s also a part of my war party. It’s like…” Syllea seemed to struggle to put something into words. She settled on, “It’s like a second family. For some, their war party is their adventuring group. That’s actually a rather common variation. But in times of war… Treehome doesn’t have a standing army. We have war parties, that are called for the common defense. There’s a structure, like you have in Spur’s Army, but it’s a lot looser in orcol society. The larger orcol cities, anyway.” Syllea said, “Think, nobility-backed war groups, in service of a country, but not exactly a king. That’s a good way to consider war parties.

“Specialty tier war parties have been called to war.” Syllea said, “I’m in a specialty tier war party. Bayth is a part of that group. Discipline requires that we never be out of hearing of each other, and only out of sight in certain cases, no matter the situation.” She added, “The reason for this call to war, was so that other specialty groups could be tagged to escort a squadron of shadeling orcols from the commune, to Ar’Kendrithyst. They should be arriving tomorrow. I already cleared the way with Silverite an hour ago.”

Erick said, “I hope they succeed.”  

Syllea lost her smile, as she gained a far off look. She breathed out, “I hope they do, too.”  

“Have you heard any more about your brother?”

With a sad smile, she said, “There has been news.” She did not expand on that statement.

“Apologies. I should not have asked.”

“Quite alright.” Syllea said, “But thank you.”

Erick changed topics, asking, “So? How do you make light win over shadow? Or dark?”

Syllea put on a professional mask, saying, “It is not directly possible for light to win against the deep shadows, but it is possible to win, in a fashion.” She asked, “Are you familiar with the lightwards they use in your Forward Base?”

“… Oh?” Erick was familiar with those lightwards. He couldn’t recall the spell at the moment, and he was not about to ask Poi for clarification, but those lightwards made the light bounce in every direction. He said, “There’s no escaping the light, for even with your eyes closed, it’s still there.”

“Yes. That is the spell.” Syllea smiled. “Light’s greatest strength is that it can be coherent, and directional. It can slice through anything, and punch harder than most other magics. But shadow abuses the directionality that you find in normal light magic. With a break in Light, and with the proper magics, you can create Shadow out of shadows.”

“Is that all there is to it? Just… Making light, like a liquid?”

“No no. That’s just the simple overview.” Syllea said, “The stronger the Light, the darker the Shadows. Even if you make Light go everywhere, you’re just making the Shadows stronger, too. The true solution, here is to ‘grey out’ everything. The proper way to have Light win over Shadow, is to be subtle, to be elsewhere, to be everywhere and nowhere.” She said, “You lose a lot of Light’s directional power. A vast, vast amount. But the best way for Light to fight the Shadows, is to focus on Illusions.”

“That seems...” Erick wasn’t sure how that seemed.

Syllea put words to Erick’s unformed thoughts, saying, “It seems pretty damn shitty, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Erick said, “Yeah. It does.”

Syllea nodded, then said, “You can always overpower the dimmer Shadows with a strong, omnipresent Light. But when you’re dealing with the Deep Darkness, Illusions work best. They’re the only thing that works— Ah! But you can use Shadow magic against Shadows, no problem. It’s like striking stone elementals with Stone, but it works, well enough.”

Erick had a thought. “How about [Shadowalk] and [Lightwalk]? Can you use one to empower the other?”

“Probably.” Syllea said, “But all I know of that is theory. You made a light slime dungeon. Doesn’t one of your Army people have both? They could likely help you more with that than I could.” She asked, “Do you have [Shadowalk]? I tried to get it, twice now, but I was chased out of both the Fractured Citadels and the Shadow Canyons. I’m not going to attempt Ar’Kendrithyst. I don’t even have [Lightwalk].”

“I do not have [Shadowalk].” Erick frowned, knowing that he could never go to Ar’Kendrithyst to ‘farm wolves’ like Jane had done. Maybe he should get [Shadowalk], but… “Silverite mentioned those places to me, once. Said I should go there if I ever wanted to get [Shadowalk], hinting that it would be a good idea. How bad are the Fractured Citadels and the... other place?”

Syllea nodded. “The Shadow Canyons are deep in the frozen south in Nergal, near Veird’s Axis. It’s the only place on the planet where the Deep Underworld has breached the surface. Shadows and fires thrive in that place, but if you’re not in the heat, then you’re in the frozen sky, or jungle, and both places are deadly to most people. I lost two members of my group to chance. I decided not to continue.” Syllea said, “The Fractured Citadels are barely better. In that place, untended sewer systems and untended tunnels to the Underworld have carved out dungeons the likes of which exist nowhere else on Veird. Shadow took hold when Quintlan fell, but the ghosts of that destroyed land still fight. Wraiths. Zombies. Undead of all kinds. Sometimes a stronger undead will arise, like a lich, or a corpse knight, and they’ll make an organized push against the shadows, to carve out minor undead kingdoms in the graveyards of the past. None of it is real, though. Undead are barely better than monsters, though they’re not monsters; they’re just… tortured souls. There’s always a necromancer behind every false kingdom.” She said, “I was already an archmage when I attempted to get [Shadowalk], but I was targeted rather heavily. When one of my people was exposed to soul magic, I decided [Shadowalk] wasn’t worth it.” She added, “I haven’t been able to craft a full set of shadow armor, either. [Shadowblend] is the best I’ve managed.”

“Sounds like gaining those skills is best done when you’re too young to be a target, and you can just eat the essences.”

Syllea smiled softly, her voice filled with a familiar longing for a simpler time, as she said, “The hermit archmages are able to move silently and unencumbered, but that’s not for me.”

Erick returned Syllea’s smile, saying, “But it would be nice to move silently, occasionally.”

“Sometimes… Maybe.” Syllea waved her hand, saying, “There’s likely someone else you can talk to about using [Shadowalk] and [Lightwalk] together, that would serve your needs more than I. Anything I told you with regard to that would be based on theory, without any practice. Though I do know a great deal about theory, so I could probably fake it if I actually had the skills myself. What I know I can do, is introduce you to using Mana Altering for Light in order to empower Shadow magics.”

That led to a question that Erick had thought of before now, but was too busy to pursue. “There’s no ‘Shadow’ in Mana Altering, though. And there’s no Decay in the [Element Shape] spells, either?”

--

Mana Altering X

Bludgeon, Slash, or Piercing Damage

Force to Light, Blinding, Variable Cost

Invisible Force, Variable Cost

Force to Thunder, Disorient, Variable Cost

Force to Fire, Burn, Variable Cost

Force to Ice, Slow, Variable Cost

Force to Lightning, Paralyze, Variable Cost

Force to Decay, organic damage, Variable Cost x1.5

Chain, Variable Cost x2

Combine Effects, Variable Cost x3

Generate new effects. Variable Cost

Requirements: 10 Willpower

--

Erick asked, “Shadow is a part of the ‘New Effects’ section, isn’t it?”

Syllea smiled wide. “There are so many secrets to that little ‘Generate new effects’ section of Mana Altering, that you could build an entire school around it all.” Her voice took on a wondrous quality, as she said, “Mercy. Vile. Exalted. Bounce. Destruction. History. Time. Void.” She laughed, “Book! That’s a fun one. If people knew more about all the true elements out there, then— It would be amazing. I don’t know what would happen, but it would surely be a sight to see.

“All of Reality is capable of being expressed in Mana Altering, for mana is undifferentiated possibility, and altering is the process of bringing that possibility to the forefront.” She added, “Though some possibilities are easier to work with than others.” Hedging her words, she added, “But almost every one I mentioned is among the hardest to use, or even understand. The true, full list of Mana Alter is quite long, but no one cares about Rain or Ash; they’re not very impressive. Magma is useful, sometimes. The Headmaster is pretty famous for his Sun Style, which is a variation of Air and Fire.” She said, “More people should be interested in the truths behind Mana Altering, but almost no one is, and it’s a damned shame.”

Erick felt like his eyes had been opened, and yet he was more confused than ever.

Syllea noticed. She said, “Mana Altering is very, very deep magic. Almost no one goes beyond the surface understanding taught in Arcanaeum, and a lot of my ideas are considered radical— But it’s hard to argue with results!”

And now Erick was lost again. “So. Uh. Pardon my ignorance, but what results do you mean?”

Erick didn’t know what he expected from his sudden admission of ignorance, but Syllea didn’t seem to mind.

“Buffing magic, Erick.” Syllea smirked. “You didn’t know that?”

“I knew you were famous for Mana Altering.” He admitted, “But I had no idea what that meant.” He asked, “And doesn’t buffing magic harm as much as it helps?”

“Okay. That’s fair. I’m also capable of doing a wide variety of esoteric spells. Maybe you’re more familiar with [Starlight Fall], which actually uses— Actually... Have you heard of that one?” When Erick shook his head, Syllea popped out a box.

--

Starlight Fall, instant, super long range, 29,900 mana

Conjure countless stars down to Veird, each creating a large explosion for 50x WIL per star.

--

[Starlight Fall] looked like a very, very large spell. Erick was impressed.

Syllea continued, “[Starlight Fall] covers a good hundred square kilometers, and is not based on any sort of Light or Shadow or Stone or Fire, as you would with one of the many variants of [Comet Swarm]. It’s actually based on altering for Starlight.” She added, “There’s a few more like that that you might have heard? [Void Bomb]; altering for Void. [Crystal Prison]. You saw that one—” She lost a fraction of her mirth, saying, “That’s what I used to stop Bayth from killing...” She shook he head. “Anyway. That one was altered for Crystal, which is an offshoot to Order, of Glass, which is itself a paraelement of Light and Stone— And I see I have confused you. Apologies. We’ll get to that in a minute. But.

“The thing you have to know about alters is first, their existence, so that you can Mana Alter to them, directly. This is one of the harder steps. I can tell you that Starlight exists, but not many people are capable of actually capturing that element in a spell.  

“Stepping beyond that initial knowledge, then you have to know their relationships to each other, so that you can alter from one element to another, and occasionally, through several elements at once. But we’re getting far ahead of ourselves.

“The purpose of altering for buffing magic, is because you are right. Buffs harm the body. But do you know why it harms?”

Erick chuckled, saying, “I hope for you to tell me.”

Like revealing a great secret, Syllea said, “Buffs change who you are in the moment, but that changed self is not who you truly are. Normal buffs are like filling your veins with power, instead of blood. It’s just not good for the mortal body.” She smiled, stressing, “If you do it wrong.” She said, “If you do it right, you’re just Mana Altering the aura of a target, and therefore the side effect is minimal. Your body clears out mana all the time, but most people aren’t capable of altering on the level that is required for a clean buff, so they go into battle with improper magic, and suffer the next day.  

“A properly Mana Altered aura is like the difference in a hangover from rotgut, versus five-time distilled flarewater.” She popped out three blue boxes, handing them to Erick, saying, “These are some of my nicer spells. Each of them has zero consequences, but it is the last one that you might find the most interesting.”

--

Hour of Flame, instant,  touch, 16,000 mana

Imbue the aura of a willing participant with Fire. They become a Flaming Existence for one hour. Their temporary nature does no harm versus all they have in their aura at the time of casting, but all other close range existences suffer from 5x WIL damage per second, while Hour of Flame is active. The target is able to suppress Hour of Flame at will. A suppressed Hour of Flame could last up to 12 hours.

--

Forest Touched, instant, touch, 5900 mana

Imbue the aura of a willing participant with the Forest. Forest Touched are able to survive off of water and sunlight for one week, as well as speak to plants, both mundane and magical. Forest Touched are able to move between linked trees, but this lowers the duration of the spell.

--

Shadow Conversion, instant, touch, 9000 mana

Imbue the aura of a willing participant with Shadow. All Light magic cast by the target is transformed into Shadow. Shadow magic cast against the target is less effective in all ways.

--

Erick read the third box for the third time. He looked up to see Syllea’s smiling face watching him. He asked, “Okay. So. That looks amazing. Can you do that with all of them? All of the elements?”

Syllea almost said something, but she paused. “How do you mean? The Shape elements? Or? There’s actually either 18 or 200 elements, depending on who you talk to.” She rapidly added, “But you probably meant the Shape elements.”

Erick nodded, saying, “Yeah, I did— But 200? 200 elements?”

Syllea seemed to tease, “What’s this disbelief? If I recall correctly, you stood up there on that podium and said there were actually closer to 250, and that we were using the term ‘element’ all wrong.”

Erick conceded, “Okay. True.” He added, “But. Yeah. I meant the 6 [Element Shape] elements. Or— You tell me.”

Syllea nodded. “There’s a mostly academic debate in some Arcanaeum circles as to the actual number of classical elements, but the ones everyone actually concerns themselves with is likely exactly as you’re thinking. Fire, Water, Stone, Air, Light, and Shadow are the main ones. Force is undifferentiated, ‘natural’ mana; if you want to call it that. Dragon is an element not accessible to most people, but it is technically an element; it’s just an element outside of the normal ordering.” She said, “But as for switching one element into the next, in the way [Shadow Conversion] switches light to shadow, every element is able to be switched into something close to what it is, rather easily. You have go to through the list, though, and each step from the original magic is further complication to the spell. [Shadow Conversion] is a two-step conversion.” She lifted her hand to the left, to an empty space in the room, and conjured a blackboard. “This is the normal conversion series.”

--    

-----------Gloom - Air - Lightning------

------------------   Rain   -----------------

--------- Abyss - Water - Healing ------

--------------- Mud/Ooze ---------------

Shadow - Swamp - Stone - Glass - Light-

------------------Magma ----------------

------------- Ash - Fire - Radiance------

--------------------Sun -------------------

--

Syllea conjured a many-sided polyhedron, with all the words listed on the board, but in handheld form that was almost a ball. “The main elements listed on this map, along with all of their mixed elements, is the common conversion map, but in handheld form.” She set it on the table between them, then summoned another object. This second conjuring was a lot more complicated than the first, for it was like a small, stabilized orrery, with the previous 18 elements on the outermost ring, but a good thirty more on the inside and a few on the outside, on rings of various sizes, and sticking outward on pins. She set the second ball of elements down beside the first one, saying, “The interior of this map is toward Order, while the exterior is toward Chaos, or Force, which is just undifferentiated mana. It is theorized that Dragon and Order are one in the same, but you can’t get to Dragon from any element, so those experiments are dead in the water. And besides, experimenting with Dragon is a good way to get assassinated.

“This second map has things like Blood, which is beside Water, toward the center, and Void, on a little pin just outside of the map, next to Shadow. There are three elements that fit this map worse than most. The first is Steam, which is the intersection of Fire and Water. That would go straight through the map, you see, and that would put it at the same spot as the other two of the three elements I mentioned, which is why it doesn’t fit this map very well.” She added, “According to most people.” She continued, “The second is Sand, which is the intersection of Stone and Air. Same problem.

“But it’s the intersection of Light and Shadow that we’re interested in. That one is ‘Illusion’.

“And to answer your question: Yes, you can alter through the list, pretty far. Though every shift past the first is more difficult than the one that came before.”

Erick stared down at the maps of magic, and felt a little lost, but also highly curious. He had no idea Mana Altering was this complicated. He smiled. He laughed. He asked, “I feel a lot lost. Was this how you felt when I was up there, talking about my ‘elements’?”

Syllea smiled. “Atoms are ridiculous.”

Erick laughed again. “But you made a particle spell! [Alter Density], if I recall correctly.”

“I barely made that spell.” Syllea chuckled, saying, “Your particles make no sense at all. That’s not how this world works. That’s not how magic works.”

Erick laughed again, pointing to the maps on the coftea table, beside the lemon cookies and the cooling coftea, saying, “That’s not how this world works, either.”

Syllea smiled. “I want to debate you on this, but we are pressed for time.”

“I would love to have that conversation. Yes. Let’s do that sometime.” Erick said, “But you’re right. So. How do you make shadows from light?” He thought back to Bulgan, floating in the sky like a black void, surrounded by light. “It’s not really as easy as making a bright light, then stepping in front of it and controlling the mana in the shadows, is it?”

Syllea brushed off Erick’s postulation with, “That is only the basic overview of the start of the process of transforming light magic into shadow magic.” She said, “But I’ve been talking at a very high level overview for a bit now. Just so we’re clear: Where do you want to go with this? If you manage to make [Shadow Conversion], then you have to learn how to fight with shadow magics, which is fine, but if you don’t have [Shadowalk], then it’s not optimal.” She popped out another blue box, saying, “This is also an option.”

--

Illusion Infusion, instant, touch, 5100 mana

Imbue the aura of a willing participant with Illusions. All Light magic cast by the target is transformed into Illusions, to act at unknown angles.

--

“It’s a single step conversion, so it should be a lot easier to for you to achieve.”  

Erick read, and pondered. He asked, “What does ‘Unknown angles’ mean?”

“You cast a [Force Beam] from your hand at a target, but it strikes the target from the side. It’s rather hard to explain more than that.” She offered, “Want to try it for yourself? We can play around with [Shadow Conversion], too, to see which you like more?” She added, “Either way, these tests and your own experimentation should give you an adequate understanding of how to fight shadow more effectively.”

As twilight faded to dark, and the stars came out to shine in the skies over Spur, Erick said, “Yes. Let’s test some spells.”